Gold (The Plated Prisoner, #5)

by Raven Kennedy

I love him with a fierceness that goes beyond the heart, and so I will ache and leak and grieve until he finds me. And he will find me. For now, I shut my eyes and think of him, letting my subconscious reach out with gentle fingers. Maybe somewhere in Orea, his eyes will close too. Maybe he’ll feel my pull, and we can meet in our dreams while we sleep. And maybe there, we can be home, for just a little while. Because my new home, I’ve realized…is him.

I’m not prey, so what I need to do is run with the predators.

I like knowing that even apart, I have a piece of him with me. It’s a comforting presence to have his magic woven with mine, as if it’s reminding me that we’ll never be truly ripped apart from one another.

failing is better than giving up. Failing means I’m still trying.

So often, people are uncomfortable with grief. It’s hard to look it in the eye of others. Because ultimately, we’re terrified that one day, grief will reflect in our own gaze, too, and we aren’t ready to face it. We’re never really ready.

Grief isn’t based on someone’s length of presence. It’s based on the impact of their absence.

“Some people are in your life for only a moment, like a shooting star. Quick and short, but they light up a part of you for a second, and their brightness lingers even after they’re gone.”